


Dreams Remembered

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 18:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 10,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of things that never happened, but might have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing a lot of AU ficslets lately, and thought I'd put them in one place.

Gold cut classes, more often than not, but had never failed a class. It might have been because the teachers were all afraid of him, but it was just as likely because despite the fact that he never seemed to pay attention, from the back corner desk he’d staked out, he aced every single test. The school psychologist had suggested testing, once, and possibly skipping grades. Rum had agreed, let the guy make the plans, and then hadn’t shown. Glass had gotten the message.

Belle, used to getting pretty good grades of her own, hit a block when it came to chemistry. It didn’t make sense, the way biology had, and her B was verging on a C. A C would ruin her GPA and destroy her hopes of a semester abroad the following year. She needed help, the real kind, not Gaston’s help which involved a lot more trying to look down her shirt than she was comfortable with. After class on monday she bit her lip, pulled her courage around her, and found Gold leaning against the building with an already lit cigarette.

“Going to warn me about breaking the rules, princess?” he asked. He was, as always, barely paying attention to the world around him. There had to be something he cared about, though.

“I need help not failing chemistry.” He wasn’t looking at her, and that made it hard to know where to look.

“And?”

“And you know more than anyone except the teacher. I wanted to know if you would tutor me.” It was going even worse than she’d expected.

“I know more than the teacher, but why would I want to waste my time?” He flicked graying ashes on the ground, and inhaled again.

“I’ll owe you a favor.” She was careful to keep her voice calm. She hoped that he, unlike Gaston, wouldn’t jump to the kind of favor she’d refuse.

“Do you know how to skate?” He looked at her, for the first time, and she almost wished he hadn’t. Once his eyes were on her she couldn’t look away.

“Yes?”

“Is that an actual yes or just a guess, princess?”

“I’m not a princess.” She stiffened a little, and glared at him. ”And yes, I can skate.”

“My little brother Bae was invited to a birthday party, but it’s at the ice rink and he’s scared the other kids will make fun of him. If you teach him how to skate I’ll teach you chemistry for the rest of the semester.”

Belle didn’t dare register shock at the news that he had a brother, or seemed to care about him so much. She only nodded. ”Deal.”

II

“You want people to be afraid of you.” Belle leaned against the railing that circled the ice rink. She didn’t take her eyes off of Bae, who had made it over halfway around without touching the wall once. It was the end of their second lesson, and she was pretty sure there wouldn’t need to be a third one.

“I don’t give a damn what people think about me.” There was something akin to a snarl in his voice, but a moment later he was flashing a thumbs up sign as Bae rounded the corner closest to them.

“You care what your brother thinks.” She dared a sideways glance at him. There was still sticker residue on his cheek, where he’d been wearing the star sticker Bae had put on him sometime before they’d arrived at the rink.

“That’s different. Bae’s family.” His voice softened a little, when talking about the boy. After the first lesson Belle had watched from the parking lot as he did up the seat belt for his brother, tugging to make sure it was secure before shutting the door. None of her friends paid much attention at all to their siblings. She didn’t know anyone who treated a younger brother like Gold did.

“Your parents…” she started, curious about the fact that he hadn’t mentioned them.

“Bae is family.” In an instant he was gone, ostensibly to throw away his coffee cup, but she saw him kicking the trash can.

She wouldn’t be asking about his parents again, that was for sure.

“Did you see, Belle? Did you?” After two laps Bae skated up to the railing.

“I saw some pretty awesome skating, if that’s what you’re talking about.” It was impossible to resist the urge to ruffle his hair. He was too cute. Sweet, too, which made her wonder what he brother had been like when he was younger. “How about we get some hot cocoa to celebrate?”

“Where’s Aiden?” Once off the ice the boy’s priority shifted. He looked around frantically until Belle pointed out where he brother was leaning against a wall. it was only then that he relaxed enough to sit on a bench and take off his skates. “I haffta ask him about the cocoa.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll buy him a cup too, if he wants.” She couldn’t imagine that cocoa with marshmallows was really Aiden Gold’s thing, though.

“He’ll say no,” Bae said, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t like it?” She wasn’t sure why she cared, what Gold did or didn’t like.

“Nu-uh. He likes it lots, but he says you can’t ‘cept favors from people, or you owe them something, and he doesn’t owe nobody nothing.” Bae slipped his second shoe on, but when he tried to tie the laces it ended up in a knot. “Wish I had velcro shoes.”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to tuck the bunny into bed.” Belle was thankful that despite the fact that she didn’t have any siblings her volunteer time with the kindergarten had taught her how to work with kids.

“The bunny?”

“Like this. First comes the tree.” She made a loop with one lace, working slowly so he could watch as she used the other to circle the first, then poke through the hole she’d made. “See how the rabbit races around the tree, then jumps into the hole to go to bed?”

“Can you do the other one?” he asked.

“No, but you can.” It took three times, but by the end he’d tied both of his own shoes.

“Thank you, Belle. I never did that good before.”

“You’re welcome, Bae. Now how about that cocoa?”

“I’ll save our place in line.” He ran off, in a hurry despite the fact that there was only one other person in line at the concession stand.

“I’ve got this.” Belle ordered both of their drinks, but before she could open her purse Gold was at her side, setting a ten dollar bill on the counter. “And a third cocoa, please.”

Belle was about to protest, but remembered what Bae had said. Gold didn’t like owing anyone. “Thank you.”

“You helped my brother with his shoes. It’s taken me months to try and help him figure it out, but you did it in five minutes. I owe you one.”

“You bought me chocolate. I think that makes us even.” On even ground, she decided, was where she wanted to be with him.


	2. Just Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disneyland, a bad date, and a little unexpected help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt of Rumbelle and Disneyland

“You look lost, dearie.” It wasn’t often that Gold walked the park during the day, when it was so crowded. As an Imagineer his job was largely behind the scenes or after hours, overseeing the maintenance of rides and the creation of new attractions. He was a wizard of technology, creating the magic that the park’s guests enjoyed, though, and sometimes felt the need to see the park as they saw it.

He hadn’t expected to find the girl, half hidden behind Mr. Toad’s Hall.

“I hope I am.” She offered him a wry smile. She was older than his first guess of teenager, but not by much. There were very few laugh lines beside her blue eyes.

“You wish to be lost?” How curious.

“I don’t want to be found.” She peaked around the corner, and must have seen something she didn’t like because she was ducking back behind the building again.

“Found by the wrong person, I gather.” The corner of his mouth quirked in amusement.

“I stupidly agreed to a blind date, and he’s the most superficial, mindless boy I’ve ever met. And far too hands on.” She made a face, but the wrinkled nose quickly smoothed away and she sighed. ”I told him I was going to the bathroom. I don’t suppose I can hide back here forever.”

“Not here, no. But if you really want an escape route…” He walked a few steps away, to a door well hidden in the back of Alice’s Adventure.

“Oh, I couldn’t. That would be rude.” She looked over her shoulder, though, and then longingly at the door.

“I promise you that if there’s any trouble I’ll take the blame.” He stepped through the door, waiting for her next to a Red Queen taller than himself.

“I suppose they can’t do anything worse than kick us out, and that would be preferable to any more time with Vartan. But I don’t want to get you into trouble, when you’ve been so kind.”

“I’m done here for the day anyway.” With a sure step despite the cane, darkness, and neon lighting he led them through the ride, stepping back when necessary to avoid the caterpillar cars. They were almost to the exit before they were spotted.

“I’m sorry, but this area is restricted. If you’ll come with me, please.” A park employee spoke in a polite but firm voice that had the girl chewing on her bottom lip.

“I think we’d rather go this way.” He pointed towards the tracks that circled around the side, a handier escape route in case the ‘hands on’ lout was still lingering around.

“I really…” Gold could see the moment the young man recognized just who he was talking to. ”Yes sir, Mr. Gold. That’ll be fine. I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you.”

“You were focused on your job, as you should be.” He glanced at the man’s name tag. ”James. Well done. Now if you could just forget we were here, should anyone ask. The young lady is displeased with the guest she came with, and I’m escorting her to the entrance.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold. I understand.” The young man nodded, and headed back to the ride entrance where he fell into place beside a lovely girl with pale skin and raven colored hair.

“He knew you?” Her curiosity seemed to momentarily still her need to leave the park.

“I’ve worked here for some time. Most cast members know me.” And knew to follow his directions, if they were smart.

“I guess it was silly for me to worry about getting you in trouble, than.”

“Not silly, dearie. Sweet.” He tried to remember the last time someone was concerned about him, personally, and not simply wanting to know if ‘The Spinner’ was around to fix something. He couldn’t come up with a time. ”Would you still like to head for the entrance, or if you want I can show you around the parts of the park where your friend won’t be able to find you.”

“Really?” The girl’s smile was as big as any child’s, seeing the park for the first time.

“It could be arranged.” He found himself wanting to know more about the girl. Futile, certainly, but at least he’d have an entertaining afternoon to remember.

“I would like that, Mr. Gold.”

“It’s Nicodemus, for my friends. Or Nick, rather, since that’s a mouthful.” Cast members called him Mr. Gold. He found that he didn’t want her to do the same.

“Thank you Nick. I’m Belle.” She held out her right hand, and he took it.


	3. Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Privately she called it her ‘cheer me up because I don’t know what to do with my life’ pie, but the name wouldn’t fit on the board. Also, Ruby said it would bring the customers down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt to write Waitress!rumbelle

“We tummed to gets pie, Miss Belle.” Bae Gold, five years old and with a new hole in his mouth where a tooth had been, grinned up at her.

“I have just the thing for my favorite man. Chocolate brule with a layer of fresh strawberries on the bottom.” Privately she called it her ‘cheer me up because I don’t know what to do with my life’ pie, but the name wouldn’t fit on the board. Also, Ruby said it would bring the customers down.

“We’ll take two slices, Mrs. Gaston, won’t we Bae?” Mr. Gold, who always said hello and always left a good tip but spent most of his time focused on his son looked down at the boy. He shared custody with his ex, and although he was the primary parent he still had two weekends a month when he didn’t get to see his son. Belle looked down at her stomach, and tried to imagine what that was like. What kind of world was she giving her child? What kind of parents.

“Ruby will help you in just a minute.” She tried to smile, and tried to walk, but ended up racing for the bathroom to empty her stomach. When she was done she headed for the back door, needing the air.

“Are you alright?” A few minutes passed before the door opened, and someone joined her on the bench. It took a moment before the voice registered.

“Mr. Gold?” She would have expected Mary Margaret, perhaps, but not a customer and certainly not him.

“Bae was worried. I promised I’d see how you were,” he explained as he offered her a cotton handkerchief. She didn’t know people still carried them.

“He’s a sweet boy.” She hoped her own child was as sweet. Unconsciously she covered her stomach with her hand.

“When are you due?” It had to be her imagination that he sounded sad, when he asked.

“I haven’t seen the doctor yet. I only just found out this week.” Four days, actually, since she’d locked herself in the bathroom and peed on a stick. She still hadn’t told her husband.

She didn’t want to tell him.

“Congratulations.” His eyes when he looked at her were so kind she had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. It was strange, too, the way she suddenly wanted to cling to him.

“Thanks.”


	4. Pirates and Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was surprisingly easy to sneak into Disneyland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Neal

It was surprisingly easy to sneak into Disneyland, with a wool coat, a well made nametag and knowledge of the busiest time for employee arrivals. By the time they made it out of the ‘cast only’ area and into the park proper, Emma was laughing. ”I can’t believe that worked.”

“I told you I’d get us into Disneyworld, Ems.” Neal tossed the fake nametag in the trash. Emma just shrugged; people had promised her a thousand things. Neal was one of the first to keep his word, more than once, but it was still her first instinct to doubt.

“So where do you want to go first?” Emma tossed her own tag, and unbuttoned her jacket to show an outfit that was obviously not a Disney costume. She was glad no one had been paying too much attention to her legs and the fact that she was wearing jeans.

“Nope, you get first choice. I’ve been here before.”

“You said you were seven.” 

“Still puts me up one on you. Chose, or else it’s going to be ‘It’s a Small World.’” Neal slipped his hand in hers, and tugged her towards the back of the park.

“Pirates,” Emma said, sure he was joking but still not willing to take the risk. She was careful to avoid staring at the castle; no way was she willing to admit that she’d once dreamt of being a princess, stolen from her parents and waiting to be found.


	5. Magical First Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Your papa is right about needing to make sure that knee is clean. I happen to know where to find some magical antiseptic and some Mickey Mouse bandaids.”

Gold didn’t panic at the sight of blood, usually. His own blood wan’t a problem, nor was a strangers. His son’s blood, on the other hand, sent his gut churning and made his hands tremble. Blood meant pain, and the idea of his son in pain was a thousand times worse than his own pain.

“It’s alright, papa. It’s just a scratch.” Bae, his brave boy, was trying to reassure him, but Gold could see the blood welling up on his knee. It had to hurt. ”We can wash it in the bathroom.”

“We need antiseptic.” Why hadn’t he thought to bring any with him? And bandages? Nothing was more important that Bae’s safety. He’d remembered water and snacks, but not a first aid kit.

“I can help with that.” Gold looked over his shoulder to find a girl in a dress of blue, her name tag proclaiming that she was called Belle, and an employee at the park. She wasn’t looking at him, though, but at his boy. ”Your papa is right about needing to make sure that knee is clean. I happen to know where to find some magical antiseptic and some Mickey Mouse bandaids.”

“I like Mickey. At home I have a phone that looks like Mickey. Sometimes I get to talk to my momma on it.” Bae didn’t have a shy bone in his body, something that Gold found to be comforting and worrying at the same time. “Is there really magic in the medicine?”

“There is. My friend Mary Poppins gave it to me.” The girl winked at him, as Bae slid off the park bench. It took Gold a minute longer to right himself, his knee stiff from kneeling on the ground to examine the wound.

“Thank you,” he said cautiously as they wound their way through the crowd to the first aid station he hand’t noticed, tucked into a corner near the castle.

“Even brave knights need band-aids when they’re wounded. Right, Michael?”

“I’m not Michael.” When they entered the first aid room Bae sat on the chair to be tended by the nurse.

“Are you sure? You remind me of a boy I know who can fly, except that you don’t have a teddy bear.” Belle crouched down with him, talking the whole time the knee was cleaned.

“I have a bear at home, on by bed. Sometimes he sleeps with me,” Bae, who at seven would have been horrified to admit such a thing to anyone his own age, seemed oddly relaxed with the girl. Woman, Gold supposed, but she seemed so young it was hard to think of her as such.

“Can you keep a secret?” Her eyes flicked up to him, a smile curling the corners of her mouth, before looking back down at Bae.

“I’m good at keeping secrets. Papa says so.”

“It’s important to keep secrets if you want people to trust you. That’s good.” She lowered her voice, enough that it sounded like a secret but not so much that Gold couldn’t hear. From her wink he understood that she did it on purpose. ”I sometimes sleep with a stuffed animal too. My mom gave me the Beast from Beauty and the Beast when I was little, and when I miss her I hug it.”

“I miss my momma sometimes too, but I would miss papa more so I live with him. And I don’t like Kill’n very much.”

“Killing?” Belle asked, perplexed?

“He means Killian. His mother has a boyfriend.” And to his shame he was pleased that his boy didn’t like the man.

“We’re all done here, Belle.” The nurse straightened up after putting a ‘Brave’ sticker on Bae’s shirt.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potts. I’m going to take my knight and his papa back to the rides. I think I might just be able to work some front of the line magic, if anyone’s interested in flying over Neverland.”

“Can we, papa? Please? I like flying.”

“I think we can, if you remember to say thank you, Bae.” His boy was smiling, and that more than made up for the fact that the Peter Pan story was never a favorite of his.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potts, for fixing my knee with the magic stuff.”

“And?” Gold prompted. looking pointedly at Belle.

“And thank you Belle for helpin’ with my knee and magic and the ride and everything. Wanna come with us?” Bae asked, words piling on top of each other in his hurry to get to the ride.

“You’re welcome, Bae. And I would like to but the pirate ships are for two people,” she explained patiently. ”And I have to do my job instead of riding rides.”

“Some rides are for three people even. After you are done working can you ride with us? Maybe papa will buy a churro and you can have some.”

“I think you and your papa are having lots of fun, just the two of you. But I’d be very happy if you wave to me when you see me today.”

Gold wasn’t sure why her careful sidestep had him frowning. Of course she had a job to do, and better things to do after that then spending time with strangers. And this was his special time, just with his son.

“You have to wave too, papa,” Bae instructed as they got into the ride. Gold held up his hand and waved, as instructed. And spent the ride lost in thought until they got to the end.

The girl was gone.


	6. Tea in a Teacup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was wearing a sundress of blue that he’d teased made her look like Alice. She, cheeky girl that she was, asked if that made him the Mad Hatter. He’d only replied that he didn’t have a fondness for hats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to chapter 2's "Just Imagine" featuring Imagineer Gold and escaping-from-a-bad-date Belle

“I don’t like the Tea Cup ride,” she admitted, biting her lower lip.

“It makes me a little sick to my stomach.” She sounded almost apologetic, as if it was her fault and not a simple fact of biology, or the mechanics of the ride that was designed to discombobulate.

“Not every ride is for everyone, dearie.” He’d only mentioned that one because it reminded him of their first meeting, almost a month ago, next to and through the Alice in Wonderland ride. They’d spent almost six hours together, that evening, culminating in watching the parade from the balcony above the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. He’d been reluctant to walk her to the entrance, but to his surprise she asked if she’d be able to say hello, the next time she was in the park. Rather than the tourist he was afraid she was, from the Australian lilt in her voice, it turned out she lived half an hour away and was a season ticket holder.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” The weather was warming up, now that spring was on the cusp of summer. She was wearing a sundress of blue that he’d teased made her look like Alice. She, cheeky girl that she was, asked if that made him the Mad Hatter. He’d only replied that he didn’t have a fondness for hats.

“Nothing at the moment. Things seem to be taking a break from breaking down, today.” By evening that could be quietly changed, though. He had a plan forming.

“Does that mean I can talk you into a ride on It’s a Small World?” she teased.

“No,” he said with an exaggerated shudder. ”But I do believe a tour of the Haunted Mansion might be in order.”

A ride on the Haunted Mansion was followed by a tour of the ballroom, complete with ghosts whirling around her. She laughed as she waved at one of the passing cars, and heard a teen boy commenting that the ‘pretty girl sitting on the table’ looked so real. He had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that he too thought that she was pretty. Beautiful, even. It would be foolish to say such a thing. Her friendship was fast becoming too precious to risk losing by letting her know what a lecherous old man he was.

“I’m afraid I have a thing or two to see to, m’dear. Would you excuse me for an hour?” After the Haunted Mansion they took a ride on Pirates, where he made her laugh with stories of the names each character had been given as well as the ship’s name of ‘Wicked Wench.’ It was when they were exiting the ride that he informed her of his need to part from her company briefly.

“You’ve spent half the day showing me around. If you need the rest of the…”

“No,” he said, too eagerly for his own taste. He used the tip of his cane to poke at a non-existent bit of trash for a moment. “It’s only a few small tasks, and I believe I promised a tour of the tunnels later.”

“You know, I’ve always thought that Disneyland was magical, but it wasn’t half so magical as it is now that you’ve shown me so many things.” She hugged him, as she did each time they parted. She was such a friendly girl, and he shouldn’t think about how good her hair smelled or how soft she was against him.

“I’m not ruining anything by showing you how the magic works?” he asked, curious and trying not to think about the fact that her hug this evening seemed to last a little longer than usual.

“It’s more magical because I know things and it feels like a secret just between us, even though I’m sure you’ve told other people.” Belle looked past his shoulder, to the door of Club 33. It was another place he’d promised to take her soon. 

“Not so many people as you might think.” There were some things he’d told her, in fact, that not another living soul knew. “Now run along, dearie, and ride on something too fast passed for an old man. I’ll meet you in front of the Storybook ride in an hour.”

“You’re not old, Nick. And I bet there’s not a ride here you haven’t been on.” She shook a finger at him admonishingly before leaving him for Tomorrowland. He watched until her blue dress was swallowed by the crowd. He had a task or two that honestly needed doing, and a few that had nothing to do with his job. Fortunately there were quite a few cast members that owed him favors.

“You’re late,” Belle told him an hour and ten minutes later, as she turned from a conversation with Peter Pan. “Someone needs a better watch.”

“Oh, I know just what time it is.” Feeling bold he took her hand, leading her to the Tea Cup ride.

“Nick, I don’t…” She stopped, tilting her head to the side. “Why isn’t anyone on the ride? There’s no line.”

“It’s temporarily out of service.” He ushered her through the gate and onto the ride with a hand at her back. She gasped slightly when they approached a white tea cup, painted with a blue design almost the same color as her dress.

“Nick, this is… is this for me?”

“It is if you happen to like darjeeling tea and chocolate chip cookies.” On the wheel usually used by guests to try and control their tea cup there was a linen napkin, making it appear to be a miniature table. There were two cups of tea, paper sadly, and a plate of just out of the oven cookies. “I hope I’m forgiven the ten minutes past the hour? I have to wait for the cookies to be done.”

“You’re forgiven _anything_.” She threw her arms around him, holding tight. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so thoughtful for me before.”

“Well.” He coughed, not sure how to respond. “We best drink before it gets cold.”

“Tea from a cup while sitting in a teacup. Yup, it’s magic alright.”

When she smiled at him he had to agree. Magic.


	7. Own Two Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man AU, rumbelle

There was something satisfying on escorting Nick’s women down the elevator and across the lobby, paying for their cabs and telling them to ‘have the cab drop them anywhere they chose, on Gold Industries.’ What they probably heard, from her clipped tone, was ‘please leave Gold Towers.’ What she wanted to say was something corser, along the lines of ‘hope you enjoyed your fuck because that’s all you’re ever getting of Nick Gold.’ 

If there was one good thing about dealing with Nick’s women it was that she’d never seen the same one twice, and that when she mentioned their names he always gave her a half confused look. That, and getting rid of them in the morning, was the only good thing about knowing her boss obviously liked sex, but had not a clue that she was human, let alone a woman.

“You’re up early, sir.” The lights in the lab were on, and Belle French spoke to the room in general, knowing he had to be around there somewhere. She scanned the room, finding him after about three seconds. The tea cup she’d been bringing to him crashed to the floor. “You’re standing.”

“Keen observation skills, Miss French.” Gold stood on a platform in the middle of the room, some kind of gold metal encasing him from the waist down. His wheelchair, ever present since he’d returned from the kidnapping without the bottom half of one leg, was tipped on its side a dozen feet away.

Belle knelt on the floor, trying to clean up the mess she’d created but she couldn’t take her eyes off of her employer. When she did manage to look at what she was doing she was dismayed to find that spilled tea was the least of her problems. She held up the cup. “It’s chipped.”

“It’s just a cup.” He waved his hand dismissively. He also moved forward, stepping off the platform, coming to rest right in front of her. It had been almost a year since she’d seen him walk, just before that fateful trip to the Middle East. 

“I’ll go get you a fresh cup.” She stood; it was strange feeling so short again. Though he wasn’t a tall man no one had ever made her feel their presence like Nick Gold did. Now she wondered if it was really the height that was doing it or the smirk on his face. She hadn’t seen that in a year either. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

“No, that will do it. I’ll be down here for the rest of the day.” He had that glazed look in his eyes that told her he was already a thousand miles away, making plans. She nodded and walked almost to the door, somehow forgetting to take the cup with her.

“Oh, Christine left an hour ago,” she remarked at the edge of the room.

“Who?” he asked distractedly. Belle didn’t bother answering, and smiled as she headed for the elevator. Today was shaping up to be a good day.

Back in the lab Gold, who didn’t remember the name of the woman he’d been in bed with a few hours ago, picked up the tea cup and carried it over to his desk because Miss French - his Belle - had chipped it. It was an irrefutable reminder of a woman whose job was to make everything run so seamlessly that it looked as if she didn’t leave so much as a fingerprint behind.


	8. The Science of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But this is the Rolling Stone." Archie adjusted his glasses nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rock band AU, inspired by certain pics from The Crocodile

"No. We told you before the fecking tour started that we weren't playing nice with any reporters." Gold striped of his shirt, tossing it in the corner of the room, and used a towel to dry off. His knees were going to hurt in the morning, from the dive he'd made, but it had been worth it to hear twenty thousand teenage girls screaming at once.

"But this is the Rolling Stone." Archie adjusted his glasses nervously. Their manager was always nervous; the poor sod needed to learn how to settle down and just enjoy what they had.

"And this is us, having a little privacy. We're not doing it, right Vic?" He looked over at the keyboardist, but the man far more modest than his bandmates had ducked behind a screen to change. "Whale, tell Hopper we're not doing it."

"We're not doing it," Whale repeated obligingly. "She's probably just another Mills clone."

"The fucker," Gold swore as he put on a new shirt, this one in a midnight blue. Regina Mills had spent a month with them, on the American leg of their last tour, playing sweet and naive before writing a scathing series of articles about them.

"Is she at least good to look at? Could use some scenery change around here." Jefferson, unlike Victor, had no problem stripping down to his boxers in the middle of the room.

"I think the scenery is just fine." From the doorway came the lilt of an Australian accent and an amused laugh. The woman standing there was tiny, brunette, and had the most startling blue eyes Gold had ever seen. She also had a press pass around her neck.

"I thought you were going to wait out in the hall for me?" Archie glanced at Jefferson, then at the woman, and blushed slightly. Gold, who had yet to figure out what team their manager played for, wasn't sure if he was embarrassed from himself or the reporter.

"I thought I might have better luck pleading my case." She didn't move from her spot, but she did look away from Jefferson's almost nude body, her blue eyes meeting his own brown ones. "And at least if I fail I can say I met the famed members of _The Science of Magic."_

"I think I like this one." Jefferson strutted around the room, taking the long way to his closet. The girl barely paid him any mind.

"We said no reporters." Whale reappeared, dressed in a gray leather jacket, black shirt and black pants.

"Can I at least make my pitch?" 

It was on the tip of his tongue to say no, if only to annoy Jefferson. There was something about her, though, that made it hard to remember why he hated reporters. "You have five minutes."

"Thank you."


	9. Piano Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Play us something sad, won’t you Nick?” He mumbled as he stirred his tonic and gin. Archie never asked for anything else. There was a girl in his past, someone sweet that brought a smile to his lips when he spoke of her, but their story had ended before it had begin. Nick didn’t know why, and didn’t ask. It wasn’t his job to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piano Man (by Billy Joel) AU. Because my dear Thumb and Mydarling were talking to each other about it. I don’t know how this turned noir after listening to that song with it’s obvious 80s thing going on, but…

The air was thick with smoke, the haze and the lights giving him a strange kind of anonymity. No one talked to him unless it was to toss him a song title as the same time as they tossed a coin in his jar. No one but Archie, and he was such a fixture in the bar that he was more a part of the scenery than an actual man.

“Play us something sad, won’t you Nick?” He mumbled as he stirred his tonic and gin. Archie never asked for anything else. There was a girl in his past, someone sweet that brought a smile to his lips when he spoke of her, but their story had ended before it had begin. Nick didn’t know why, and didn’t ask. It wasn’t his job to ask.

“Sure, Arch.” There weren’t many in the bar yet. Later he wouldn’t be able to get away with anything sadder than the occasional jazz, but the stool pigeons were either deaf to the music or feeling low enough that it would serve as a pick me up. The five o’clock bunch were drinking their dinner, and no one did that without a good reason.

_Nobody knows you when you down and out_

_In my pocket not one penny,_

_and my friends I haven’t any_

_But If I ever get on my feet again,_

_then I’ll meet my long lost friend_

Bessie Smith’s words got tangled in his throat halfway through the son when Belle French came in, chestnut locks piled atop her head to give her a few perceived inches of height. Her dress of China silk covered her from neck to knee, more than most dames who would be streaming in once they’d weaseled a fine dining experience out of their men. it clung to her, though, in a way that drew his eye and had him missing a note.

“Bastard of a piano is getting out of tune,” he griped as he continued to play one handed, taking a puff off the cigarette that smoldered in a tray next to his tip jar. Nothing but seed money in it now, but Saturday nights were a big draw. He’d be walking home flush tonight.

“I ain’t cut out for this.” Victor brought him his hourly Johnny Walker, filled with more rocks than he’d like but since it wasn’t on his tab he had no reason to complain. The man leaned against the piano more for effect than a need to support himself. In a dinner coat the shade of cream and a tie that was just loose enough to suggest that he wouldn’t mind the right pair of hands loosening it more, Victor Whale was the perfect picture of what he wanted to be, not what he was. If they weren’t in the middle of god damn nowhere, otherwise known as the frozen plain of Maine, he just might have been discovered by Hollywood like he wanted. he had the smile for it, if the girls that swooned over him were to be believed. Never the same girl more than twice, but then the man was allergic to commitment.

Not that Nick was one to talk. His greatest commitment was to his landlord, paid on a weekly schedule, and the piano he caressed every night.

“The suit over there, with the orange tie that’s near to blinding wants to know if you’ll play Cheek to Cheek for him.” Belle lingered a moment as she slipped the five note into his jar. The rest of the girls shouted an order over their shoulders, but not Belle. She always smiled, and asked like it was a real question, not the verbal equivalent of moving the arm on a record player.

“Last week it was Minnie the Mocher. Twit’s got some real taste in music.” He had better taste in dames than music, which was even worse. He’d rather throw the man out of the bar for the way he dared to touch Belle the week before than play him a song that would, in all likelihood, have him trying to get his hands on her cheeks again, and not the ones on either side of that rosebud mouth.

“Twit pays enough on Saturday nights to keep me in shoes, not to mention making sure i can pay the grocer. Guess I can’t complain too much.” She grimaced before looking over her shoulder at the man, though, a fake smile pasted on her face. Nick got her real expressions, and that was something, he decided. He’d hate to know she ever felt the need to playact for him. ”Maybe later you can play me something nicer?”

“Anything.” But she was already gone, stopping at the bar for a couple of drinks.

“You are so dizzy with the dame I’m surprised you can see enough to play.” Jefferson’s laugh pulled him away from his fuming when the bastard tried to raise Belle’s skirt a few inches. Like the filth deserved to touch her thigh, even if they were encased in nylons.

“Piss off.” He’d almost forgotten his friend was in port for the week. There was no reason, being on leave, he needed to wear his uniform. When Nick’d questioned him on it he’d simply commented that it drew attention from all sorts.

It was as much about Jefferson’s life between the sheets as he needed to know.

“One of these days you’re going to have to ask her out.”

“One of these days you’re going to have to mind your god damn business.” He was a piano man, with nothing but his talent and a bum leg. He had nothing to offer her.

That night, though, after everyone had gone home and the smoke had settled, as he coaxed the notes of Rachmaninoff’s Third from the ivories, she smiled at him. For a few blissful minutes he allowed himself to imagine that Jefferson was right and he could ask her all the questions that were trapped at the tip of his tongue.

Or better yet kiss her until no questions needed to be asked.


	10. Just Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma/Archie as NCIS agents

“You were supposed to talk. That was it. Just talk.” Emma pressed down on the towel she’d taken from the drawer. ”What part of ‘negotiate’ involves rushing a guy with a ten inch blade? You’re a shrink.”

“I’m an NCIS agent too.” Archie grimaced, the slightest move causing a wave of pain. He understood why Emma had to press firmly, but that didn’t make it easier. “I had to distract him. He almost saw the kids sneak out the door.”

“You don’t even remember to bring your gun if someone doesn’t remind you. Why they ever let you out in the field…”

“It’s just a flesh wound, Emma. Might need to stay off it for a couple of days after they stitch me up, but that’s it. I’m fine, and we got the kids all out of here safely. That makes it a win.” He could hear the sirens coming, almost drowning out the sounds of the rest of their team, outside with the children.

“These kids.” Her jaw was tense. He knew she was thinking of the photos in a case file, two children gone missing from a Navy base and later found in the Potomac.

“We do our best, Emma. That’s all we can do. Six kids today, and resolution for the parents that might never have known what happened. That means something.”


	11. You've Got Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alice/Jefferson and You've Got Mail

She set fire to all of his posters. It was a large fire, considering how many signs the advertising department had put up to announce the new location. It was also done on the sidewalk right in front of his under-construction store, and that’s what had him racing down the stairs.

“Are you mad?” Fortunately the construction site had fire extinguishers, and he was able to put out the flames before they were able to do more than scorch the sidewalk.

“Furious. You lied to me.” He probably shouldn’t be admiring the red in her cheeks or the way the sun made her hair look like gold, but Jefferson did many things he shouldn’t. 

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you the truth.”

“If you cracked any of the books you sell you’d know about lies of omission. You lied but now I know who you are and what you are . You won’t defeat me. Down the Rabbit Hole will not be bested by you warehouse supply book outlet." From somewhere she pulled out more fliers and another match, leaving behind a flaming pile when she strode away.

Things certainly were getting interesting.


	12. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Emma/Archie and Sleepless in Seattle

“My dad is lonely. I think he needs a wife.” Archie listened in mortification to his son’s voice on the radio for a good thirty seconds before racing down the stairs.

“Henry, what are you doing?” He found his son on the couch, a cell phone in hand. His cell phone, of course, because at eleven Henry was too young for one of his own no matter what other kids got.

“Jefferson want to talk to you, dad.” he held out the phone, and somehow rather than hanging up Archie answered. ”Hello?”

“Henry’s dad? This is Jefferson from Late Night Love Connection. Your son has been telling us that he thinks you need to find someone special. Do you want to tell us the last time you had a date?”

“Not really.” Archie sat on the arm of the chair. ”Honestly I can’t remember.”

“What about Henry’s mother then?”

“I adopted him when he was three days old. All i know it that she was in Arizona at the time, eleven years ago, and gave me the best gift I’ve ever been given.” Despite his annoyance he ruffled his son’t hair.

“Man, you really don’t date, do you? After this commercial break let’s see if we can fix that.”

II

Three thousand miles away a sleepless Emma listened to the radio in shock. There had to be hundreds of kids born in Arizona and adopted each year. There was no reason to think that this one was her son. No reason at all.


	13. Wrong Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Rumbelle and Firefly

“The war is over, dearie, and you lost. You lost for the same reason that people always lose; money and weapons will beat heart and faith every time.” They stood toe to toe, the crew giving them wide berth. Gold’s latest client had left only moments ago. The Captain had kept her tongue until the door was shut.

“You gorram húndàn, you will not talk to me like that, not when there’s good people buried under rubble because they fought for what was right instead of turning a blind eye because it was more convenient. I don’t care who you take to your bed, Gold, but never again will you bring an Alliance officer onto my ship.” She tilted her head up, eying him for a moment before turning and stalking off towards her quarters.

“Belle…” Gold sighed, knowing, as he always did, that he’d gone too far. If only he could figure that out before he spoke.

“It’s Captain French, and this is my ship. If you want to stay you’ll follow my rules.” Her second in command, Swan, followed her out of the room. One by one the rest followed, until only Sheppard Whale was left behind.

“That was a dumb move, old son. It’s almost as if you tried to find a way to make her mad at you.”

“Maybe it’s better for her this way.” Gold pulled the ends of his silk robe’s belt together and tied it. ”I was about to make some tea. Join me?”


	14. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you run so much?" Rumbelle Doctor Who AU

“Why do you run so much?” Once they were inside the TARDIS, the door safely closed behind them, Belle collapsed to the ground. Her side ached and she felt like she might need to drink an entire swimming pool of water before she was hydrated again.

“Generally because things are chasing us, dearie.” He busied himself with the console, but she knew him. The movements he made were not the confident ones that spoke of a destination chosen, but the small strokes and minor fidgets that meant he needed to keep himself distracted. That, or as Belle had suspected before he was petting the thing.

“But even when they’re not we’re always on the run, one place to the next. We never just stop and look.” She loved the adventure, but sometimes she wanted to stop and smell the roses. Literally. They’d been on a planet that boasted the galaxy's largest botanical garden.

“Running helps me forget,” he admitted softly. The fact that he wasn’t looking at her gave her courage.

“Forget what?” He had so many secrets. He’d lived so many lives before her, had traveled with so many people. Sometimes she wondered how she could matter to him at all.

“It must have worked. I don’t remember.” It was back again, that giggle he used when trying to act the part of the strange alien, the mask he wore with others. She hadn’t seen it when it was just the two of them for months. “Go along and see if you can’t find where the library has gotten to now. It’s not where it was.”

Though she stared at him for a full minute, he would not look at her. With a sigh Belle left the room.

II

He found her in the library hours later, and brought her tea. Perhaps it was an apology, perhaps he was softening her up for their next adventure on some remote frozen world. Or perhaps he’d had nothing to do with his hands while he was lost in his thoughts, and there was no point wasting good tea.

“I didn’t mean to pry.” This time the library had come with a fireplace and a sofa with too many pillows, oddly like the type of place she dreamed of when she considered the perfect home.

“What?” He studied her for a minute, head cocked to the side, honest confusion lasting until he blinked. “Oh. Yes. That.”

“This life, it’s everything I’ve wanted. But we meet people, and make friends, and then we leave. The one constant in my life is you, so I suppose I just… hoped I could know you.” Belle held the tea up to her mouth to sip, but was startled enough when he spoke that she lowered it again without drinking.

“I run from things, because there’s nothing to run towards. This,” he gestured his hand in a vague circle, “is the only home I have. The only life I have.”

“Everyone comes from somewhere.” Belle thought of her papa, who would be worried about her if she didn’t come back. And Gaston, who would not.

“Ay, they do. I came from somewhere, a place where the sky burned orange, the fields were filled with red grass, and the trees bore leaves of silver.” He looked into the fire, and she almost asked him to stop. The knot in her stomach told her she didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but she had to be brave. For him. 

“It sounds beautiful.” She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.

“It was, but I was young and didn’t appreciate it then. Later…” For a minute only the crackle of the fire filled the silent room. “I burned them all, Belle. It was the only way to end things, but I still lost everything. My world. My boy. Now all I have left is the running, because I still smell the smoke and feel the fire at my back.”


	15. Mrs. Spindleshanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was meant as a compliment, obviously, but he had no desire to remind Isabel French of her aunt. i
> 
> Mrs. Doubtfire AU

“I really wish at least one of Bay’s parents had been able to come today, Mrs. Spindleshanks. It’s too bad that…”

“They don’t care enough about their children?” Gold supplied, having to remind himself not to sneer. Milah was too busy with ‘work’ to come and had asked her trusted nanny. There was no good reason to say no, but if Spindleshanks was present that meant Eric Gold was not. Once again he looked the part of the dead beat father.

Ms. French shook her head. “I was going to say that the time of day didn’t work out. I understand they both had work commitments, and there are those pesky details like rent and groceries. And Morraine’s art lessons. She’s showed me some of her drawings; your charge has quite a bit of talent.”

“I don’t know a Michelangelo from a Kandinsky, dear, but I know what I like. I have a very pretty picture she made me, framed on the wall.” He had three, actually. One his daughter had made for him, one she’d done for her nanny Mrs. Spindleshanks, and a scribble of crayons on the back of what had been an important document at the time. “But you were saying something about Bay?”

“You really care about them, don’t you? I was raised by my dad, but I had an aunt that took an interest in me, did all those things that mothers are supposed to do. You remind me of her.” It was meant as a compliment, obviously, but he had no desire to remind Isabel French of her aunt. it had been a good long time since he’d been attracted to anyone; of course it would happen when he was wearing an inch of latex on his face, a body suit, and a white wig.

“I love them as if they were my own, ducky.” Gold leaned forward and patted her on the knee; surely that was the type of thing a supportive auntie would do. Other than Morraine, who was affectionate with her nanny, and Jefferson who felt the need to hug anyone who came within five feet of him, it was one of the only touches he’d experienced in the last month. Gold took a breath, remembering that he was meant to be British, and not to pick up any of her Australian sound no matter how lovely it was. “Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you? Are Bay’s grades slipping?”

“Oh no, he’s a clever boy. He’s always been ahead in everything academically. It’s… both of the children are coping with the divorce in their own ways. I know it’s hard for any child, but Morraine has her friends and her art. Bay seems to be isolating himself, Mrs. Spindleshanks. He only participates in class discussion when I call on him directly, and every time I observe him during lunch or other free times he’s always alone.”

“I’ll talk with him.” He nodded curtly, but inside he felt like he’d been punched. How had he not noticed just how much his boy was hurting?

“I think you should talk to his parents as well. It’s not my place to interfere, but I feel like Bay misses his father more than he’s saying. I know things are complicated when any relationship ends, but the children…”

“Should come first. Always.” Gold didn’t notice that in his fierce exclamation his natural Scottish brogue overcame his faux accent.

“I’m so glad you understand, Mrs. Spindleshanks.”


	16. Like Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pirates of the Caribbean AU, based on the scene between Barbossa and Elizabeth

"How does it taste?" He looked deceptively calm as he leaned back in the chair, only the twitching of his eyes giving away how closely he watched her. It had been more than a day since she had eaten, and Belle found it almost impossible to care what he did, at first. Not when the juices of a perfectly roasted pig flooded her mouth, cleaned away by the tang of an orange. When was the last time she’d tasted fresh citrus?

"Delicious, thank you." It seemed ridiculous, perhaps, to thank the man who had kidnapped her, but she had been raised to express herself in a particular way. Her books, as well, seemed to suggest that she would not gain more from insults than she would from politeness.  
"No, I mean how does it taste? Do the flavors mingle against your tongue? Does the salt awaken your taste buds? Does the freshness of the limes remind you of a summer’s day?" He holds a pomegranate in his hands, tearing it open and offering it to her. "Tell me what it is like."

"I know better than to take pomegranates from men." The turkey leg she’d been about to bite into fell to her plate, her appetite not nearly satisfied but her hunger suddenly fled. "Why don’t you eat? Have you poisoned the food?"

"Why would I do that, dearie? i have no desire to harm you." His laugh was almost a giggle, a strange discord to the pirate’s clothing and the dim room.

"The food…"

"Tastes like ash, in my mouth. Wine tastes of the dry wind that blows across the desert. I can taste nothing." She watched, captivated by the shadows that flickered across his face as he dragged the candelabra in the middle of the table closer. A salt cellar fell, the pure white against the stained oak looking like dust. he held his hand above the flames, an eerie half smile drawing up the corners of his mouth. "I can feel nothing."

"Please don’t." She was no longer certain that the smell of roasting was the feast on the table. Smoke rose from his hand. She was going to be ill. "Please."

"Three hundred years without a touch, Miss Belle. Can you imagine what such emptiness might be like?" He laughed as he held up his hand, the palm blackened with smoke but not blistered or burned.

"No touch at all?" She looked down at her own hands, the juice of the orange still leaving them sticky. To be so isolated.

"Perhaps that will change. Perhaps I can touch you. Whores and harpies can do nothing to penetrate to a man’s soul but perhaps one so innocent as you…" His hand would cup her cheek, if it was but an inch closer. "You could be mine."

"I belong to myself." She tilted her head back. She might feel sorry for him but she would not let anyone control her fate.

"God help the man who believes differently." The floorboards creaked as the Captain pushed back from the table, the inch that had separated them turned into miles. "Enjoy your supper, Miss Belle. I will not trouble you further."

She did not believe in ghost stories, but the light of the moon played tricks on her when he walked through the door. She almost believed that she saw his flesh fade away.


	17. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Emma and Neal had stayed together, raised their son and then come to Storybrooke as a family?

Emma wouldn’t stay behind, of course. And if Emma came with him that meant bringing Caleb too, which was fine with his son. Neal was less certain.

“Can I call him grandpa?” was his first question when they mentioned a trip to the pawn shop.

“I think that’s jumping like a hundred steps, kid. Let’s wait and see how things go.” Emma paced the room; her skin itched just from being in this town. If the stories Neal had told her for ten years now were true then everything in this place was wrong. And right. Her parents were in this place. Neal’s dad, too.

Emma wasn’t certain she wanted to meet any of them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to meet me at the diner after?” Neal asked on more time.

“Are you sure you want to waste your breath asking pointless questions?” she fired back. They both knew that the only place she was going to be when he went to face the man that might be his father was at his side.

“How about if we all go to the diner after, for pancakes. Maybe he’ll want to come with us too?” Caleb played with the doorknob of the room they’d rented at the B&B. It was a step up from the places they usually stayed. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, we can go.” It wasn’t even a block, almost across the street, but they took their time. Or at least Emma and Neal did; Caleb raced ahead, came back and raced ahead again. On one of his runs he managed to collide with a sleek woman who muttered something about children and leashes. Emma ignored her.

“Can I help you?” Neal’s face went white when they walked through the door. It wasn’t the look he sometimes used to distract people or the one he used to gain sympathy when telling a ‘sob’ story. Emma had only seen that expression a few times, including when she told him she was pregnant.

“We’re just browsing, thanks.” Emma dragged her husband into one of the corners of the shop, out of the man’s line of sight. She dropped her voice. “That’s him?”

“He hasn’t changed. I mean he has, he doesn’t look like that thing, but other than the clothes he looks just like he did when I was a kid. That’s him, Emma.” It seemed as if it was the strength of her hand on his arm and the wall he leaned against that held him up.

“We should get out of here, regroup, get Caleb those pancakes we promised him. We can come back later if you want.” Emma looked around for their son, finding him at the counter.

“That’s a cool book, Mr. Gold. Did it belong to a kid? Maybe your kid?” Caleb knew better than to say anything, of course, but he was a clever kid and not bad at working people, though she and Neal had strict rules about not using him to get things.

“No, it didn’t. That ball did, though, a long time ago.” Neal nodded to a ball on the shelf, a ratty old thing. How it survived centuries, Neal didn’t understand.

“I bet he’d like this book, though. My dad likes to read me books. Did you read to your son?” Caleb was on his tiptoes to see to the top of the counter.

“Come on, kid, it’s breakfast time.” Emma was more than ready to get out of the place, and squeezed Neal’s hand. They needed to regroup.

“We didn’t have any books.” It was Neal who answered the question, looking at the man across the room as he stumbled backwards.

“Bae?”


	18. Doc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Emma had kept Henry (with some help)

"But how come Doc’s not coming with us?" Henry had listened patiently while she told him about the new apartment she’d found. For the first time in her life she was earning enough that she could afford a two bedroom place; she could support herself and Henry.

"This is Doc’s house, kid. He was sharing it with us for a little while, but now we need a place of our own." You can change your mind, he’d told her five years ago. She hadn’t believed in herself then, but Doctor Winslow had. He’d gotten Henry temporary care, and had insisted on a lawyer to petition for her early release. She’d only been in jail for another week before finding herself in Doc’s guest room. It was supposed to be a temporary solution. She’d never stayed anywhere for five years, but at first she didn’t have any choice and then she had been reluctant to leave the one person in the world she could count on and entrust with her son.

"I don’t wanna move. Whose gonna tell me my bedtime story?" He was already dressed for bed, his hair still damp from the bath. Nothing smelled better, in Emma’s opinion, than a freshly bathed Henry.

"We’ll figure something out," Emma promised.

"Every Friday I’m coming over for dinner." Doc leaned against the door, his hair a little whiter now than it had been five years ago. "I’ll tell you a story on Fridays, and the rest of the nights you can call me and I’ll tell you one. Alright, chief?"

"You promise?" Henry asked.

"I promise."


End file.
